


Redemption: Darkness and Light

by EstherA2J



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: About to Die, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Anger, Angst, Awkwardness, Best Friends, Canon Relationship, Dark, Drama, Established Relationship, Family, Family Drama, Father-Son Relationship, Female Characters, Fights, Forgiveness, Gen, Hate, Healing, In Character, Love, Loyalty, Major Character Injury, Male Friendship, POV Multiple, Parenthood, Protectiveness, Redemption, Regret, Relationship(s), Science Fiction, Serious Injuries, Sibling Love, Unconsciousness, male characters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-11-23
Updated: 2014-02-20
Packaged: 2017-11-19 08:24:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 11,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/571199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EstherA2J/pseuds/EstherA2J
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The thought of darkness was disquieting, like a half-remembered nightmare; and yet, there was something—something he should remember. He tried to grasp it, but it slipped from his fingers, lost in the dazzling light.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Like Looking Into the Sun

 “Are you sure about this, Luke?” Leia eyed the closed door warily. Behind that one flimsy barrier, her father lay in a deep healing trance, repairing the damage done to him when he destroyed his master to save his son, her brother. She still had trouble accepting that he was her father. This was the man who had stood beside Tarkin while she was tortured, who had destroyed her world. “It isn’t like there’s a button you can press that turns off the dark side,” she continued. “He was Sith for years.” She turned to her brother; he was so full of joy, he was practically glowing. It was like looking into the sun.

“I could feel the conflict within him, Leia,” he said. “And I felt the darkness leave him.” He was standing perfectly still in the middle of the tiny room, but there was an impression of constant motion, almost as if he were dancing with joy.

She blinked and looked away, suddenly uncomfortable. She had never before suffered from claustrophobia, but the room seemed too small to contain Luke’s elation, and she felt that she could be swept up and lost in the tempest of his delight. She had never seen him like this before, and she was almost afraid of the power he was radiating. He did seem completely in control of himself, though. She took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Luke, but I cannot trust him—not yet.” She closed her eyes, once again seeing the silent explosion—the hauntingly beautiful, brilliant colours against the black of space—as everything she had known was wiped out forever. Tears stung her eyes, but she held them back; she was not yet ready to weep for those she had lost in that conflagration.

Luke put his gloved hand on her shoulder—the robotic hand that was a constant reminder of what that man had done to him—and squeezed gently. “I know,” he said quietly. “I hated him too; I believed he had killed my father.”

She met his eyes, and hers were wet with the tears she wouldn’t allow herself to shed. Her voice was choked. “I know I shouldn’t hate him,” she whispered. “But I can’t help it.”

Luke pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her. She rested her cheek on his black-clothed shoulder and willed that some of his serenity would transfer to her.

~*~

Shadows were growing under the trees as night fell over Endor. Leia watched the preparations for tonight's celebration without really seeing them. She felt distant, removed from the hustle and bustle around her, completely alone. Could she, _should_ she celebrate? It felt like a betrayal to all those lives she had represented as Senator, some of whom had been her family and friends. Nothing could ever bring them back; nothing could ever make it right, no matter what Luke thought with his idealistic dreams.

“Leia?” Startled, she turned to find Han approaching. “Am I interrupting some deep thoughts, Princess?” His familiar smile tilted his lips as he came to stand before her, taking her hands in his.

Rising on tiptoe, she gently brushed his lips with hers. “I was just thinking about Luke,” she admitted.

Han shook his head and laughed. “Good thing he's your brother, or I might just have to be jealous.” He took a closer look at the expression on her face. “Or maybe not. Has the kid done something to make you mad at him?”

She shook her head and sighed. “Not really.” She shrugged helplessly. “He didn't tell you who he brought back from the Death Star, did he?”

Han frowned. “He brought someone back? Anyone I know?”

Withdrawing her hands from Han's grasp, Leia turned away and wrapped her arms around herself. Her voice was so quiet when she answered that Han had to lean toward her to hear. “When Luke fought Vader on Bespin, he learned something that Obi Wan had kept from him: Vader is his father.”

A gasp escaped Han's throat. “Luke is Vader's son?” he exclaimed. “I'd never have seen _that_ coming, not in a million years.” He shook his head in disbelief, staring into the distance for a moment, then his gaze swung sharply back to Leia. “But—that means...you...” His voice trailed off.

She nodded. “Yes. He's my father too.” She hugged herself tighter. “I really don't want to think about that right now.”

Han blew out his breath in a gusty sigh. “Wow. Well, yeah. I don't blame you.” He caught her eye and one corner of his mouth tilted. “For what it's worth, it makes no difference to me. You're still you.”

Something hard and cold inside her started to melt, and tears welled up in her eyes. “Thank you,” she whispered. Dismayed, he reached for her, but she pulled back, shaking her head. “I'm okay. I have to tell you what Luke did.” Forcing her voice to steady, she stared at his boots while she spoke. “Luke went to the Death Star to save Vader. The emperor tried to turn him to the dark side, but he couldn't, so he was torturing and killing Luke with Force lightning.” She twisted her hands together, imagining what it would be like to die in such a manner. “Vader watched for a moment, then grabbed the emperor and threw him down a shaft—killed him.” She sighed. “The emperor turned his lightning on Vader, and almost killed him.” Meeting Han's eyes, she finished, “Luke brought him back here. He's sleeping inside.”

For once, Han was speechless. Shock, horror, and fear swept across his face. Then he managed to choke out, “Vader's _here_?” He scrubbed a hand over his face and then gestured helplessly, at a loss for words.

“Luke says he's changed, come back from the dark side.” Leia shivered, and then met Han's eyes. “I trust Luke, but I cannot trust _him_.”

Han reached for her again, and this time she went into his arms, wrapping her own arms around him as well. They stood in silence, comforting each other, lending and giving strength.


	2. Fragments of Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He tried to think back, to remember, but again the memories slid away from his questing thoughts, swallowed up by the brilliant glow of power.

Anakin Skywalker slowly woke, gradually becoming aware of his surroundings. The first thing he noticed was the presence near him: a brilliant entity radiating so much more pure Force than Anakin had ever felt from another person. Even he had never exuded such unadulterated power; his command of the Force was great, but always clouded slightly by his darker emotions.

The thought of darkness was disquieting, like a half-remembered nightmare; and yet, there was something—something he should remember. He tried to grasp it, but it slipped from his fingers, lost in the dazzling light of whoever it was who was near him. He was now awake enough that he could tell that the source of all that power was in the room with him, sitting beside him.

Curiosity forced his eyes open, searching the room: it was small and bare, with blank grey walls and ceiling. There was barely room between his bed and the wall for the chair on which was seated a tall slim young man with golden hair and clear blue eyes. Anakin studied his face for a moment, knowing immediately that this was the source of the blazing power he felt. He knew this face, and yet he didn't. Those blue eyes that were watching him so intently were intimately familiar to Anakin, yet he couldn't put a name to them.

He turned his head slightly, and the change in the young man was immediate. He leaned forward in his chair, his face breaking into a massive smile. "Father?" He put his hand on Anakin's shoulder and, just like that, Anakin knew his name.

"Luke," he whispered, and was appalled at the sound of his own voice: strained, hoarse, and  _old_. He tried to clear his throat, but found he couldn't control those muscles. What had happened to him? He tried to think back, to remember, but again the memories slid away from his questing thoughts, swallowed up by the brilliant glow of power emanating from Luke. He did know his own name, and he knew the name Luke, but he didn't know who Luke  _was_.

"How are you feeling?" Luke asked quietly.

"What…happened?" Anakin managed to ask.

"I got us away from the Death Star just as it exploded. We're safe now."

The Death Star? Another disturbing tremor rippled through his memory; the Death Star was part of the nightmare. He forced himself to speak again: "Where—?" But his damaged voice gave out.

Luke understood, however. "We're on the moon of Endor." He gently squeezed Anakin's shoulder. "It's okay; you can rest. We're safe here."

~*~

"Hey, Kid!"

Luke stopped just outside the old Imperial military barracks he was sharing with his father, and turned to face Han. Although he could tell by Han's emotional turmoil what this was about, he said nothing, only smiled in greeting.

"He's in there?" Han stopped and stared at the nondescript building, a mixture of awe and horror on his face.

Luke nodded. "He is."

"Are you crazy?" A shiver ran through Han's body, but he seemed unaware of it. His eyes never left the structure; he stared at the wall like he was trying to see through it.

"Maybe." Luke shook his head. "But I don't think so."

"Look, Kid, I trust your motives; I know you think you can save him." Han rubbed the back of his neck. "Leia told me he's your father. Of course you want to do what you can for him; but he's…he's Darth Vader, for frag's sake!"

"I know," Luke said softly. "But he's also Anakin Skywalker." He put a hand on Han's shoulder. "I have to try, Han."

Han sighed deeply. "I know. Just be careful, okay? And, Luke? We probably shouldn't tell anyone else that  _he's_  here, you know?"

Luke nodded thoughtfully. "You're right, of course. Thank you." He smiled and Han was surprised to feel a little of what Leia had tried to explain to him of the brilliance of Luke's power boosted by his joy. He almost had to look away, dazzled.

"Well, yeah. So, I gotta go talk to Chewie. Remember what I said, Kid." Feeling rather awkward now, Han turned and left.

Luke watched him go. Han was right; no one would understand why Vader was here. No one would believe that he had turned from the dark side. Anakin would have to prove himself, maybe over and over. Shaking his head, Luke forced such thoughts away; there was no room for anything else right now except for helping his father to heal. He entered the barracks, reaching out to Anakin as he came.


	3. Darth Vader, For Frag's Sake!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some things Anakin wished he could remember: Luke was clearly important to him. Other things, the nightmare flashes, he was glad to forget. But something told him that in order to remember the good, he must deal with the bad as well.

For the next few days—or maybe weeks—Anakin drifted in and out of sleep; his body was healing itself through the Force from whatever it was that he had suffered. Sometimes when he awoke, he was alone, sometimes Luke was there, but always he could sense the other's presence nearby. Often, fragments of nightmare would invade his dreams—flashes of death and pain—but they always fled almost immediately, driven away by the glory that was Luke.

Some things Anakin wished he could remember: Luke was clearly important to him. Other things, the nightmare flashes, he was glad to forget. But something told him that in order to remember the good, he must deal with the bad as well. Not now, though; there would be time later, once his body was strong again.

At times he thought he sensed another presence near him—weaker than Luke, yet still strong in the Force. He could not be sure, though, as Luke was so powerful it was impossible to focus on anyone else and he never actually saw anyone but Luke. No one else was ever in his room, at least not while he was awake.

~*~

One morning, when he awoke, Anakin decided that he had been lying in bed for long enough. Luke was not there, but he should be strong enough to get up on his own. This, however, was not as easy as he thought it would be.

First, he tried to sit up. As his head and shoulders rose, though, a wave of dizziness washed over him and he fell back. With a groan, he put his hands to his head, and met the unyielding surface of a metal...something. "What the—?" He explored the contours of the mask that completely covered his face, marveling at the workmanship, and wondering how he had missed noticing that it was there. Somehow, it felt normal, familiar; yet at the same time, he had no real memory of why he would be wearing such a thing. Feeling for the edges, he discovered that it wrapped around the back of his head too, making a complete helmet.

"Father?" Anakin had been so focused that he hadn't heard the door open. Luke entered the room and asked, "Are you all right? Were you trying to sit up?" He closed the door behind him and stood by the bedside. "How are you feeling today?"

His hands still on the mask, Anakin asked, "What is this? Why am I wearing this?" It was much easier to speak now; his voice was clear and his throat no longer hurt.

Luke sat down on the edge of the mattress. "It's a breathing mask. I'm hopeful that I can help you to heal your lungs enough that you will eventually no longer need it."

"Is there a part of me that wasn't injured?" Anakin meant the question to be humourous, but the mask caused it to come out sounding flat and unemotional.

Luke caught the humour though, and laughed gently. Sometimes it seemed the young man could read his mind. At times like this, he'd almost think Luke was related to him—and he called him "Father." How much time had he lost? It felt like days, or maybe weeks, but what if it was years? He remembered no family save his stepbrother, his stepfather, and his mother… A wave of grief and pain washed over him, and he would have doubled over if he'd been upright. He could hear Luke's worried voice through the roaring in his ears, but all he could see was the dead: his mother, the sandpeople who had killed her, hundreds of faceless Jedi, and others, so many others, bodies stretching for as far as he could see. "I killed them. I killed them all. They're dead; every single one of them. Not just the men, but the women and children too…"

A blaze of light rushed through his soul, washing away the images of death and bringing him back to the present. Luke was leaning over with his hands on Anakin's shoulders, his face inches from Anakin's mask. "Father!" he called. "Anakin Skywalker!"

With an effort, Anakin focused on Luke. "Was that—? Did I—? No. No." He shook his head and tried to sit up again, but Luke easily held him down. Letting his body go limp, he met Luke's eyes. Trying to distract himself from the horror in his mind, he asked, "Why do you call me 'Father'?"

Releasing him and sitting back, Luke replied, "Because you are my father."

Stunned, Anakin studied Luke's face. Now that he was looking for it, he could see Padmé in Luke, and himself as well. He raised his hand to touch his son's face, tears filling his eyes. "Did you know," he whispered, "they said I was to bring balance to the Force?" His fingers trembled, and Luke took them between his hands and gently squeezed. "Maybe they meant you."

~*~

Leia fell to her knees in the mud and grass, her arms wrapped around her middle. Han ran to her side, going to one knee beside her. Tears were streaming down her face as she rocked back and forth sobbing.

"Leia?" He put a hand on her arm. "What is it? What's wrong?"

She reached out blindly and he took her hand. She held on as if she was drowning and he had tossed her a rope. "So much pain," she whispered. "So much pain."

Although it was uncomfortably hot, she was shivering. "Leia? What's  _wrong_?"

She shook her head. "I don't know. I don't know." She was squeezing his hand so hard it hurt, but he kept silent. She needed him, and he would not disappoint her again.

Just as suddenly as it began, the fit left her, and she released his hand to wipe her eyes. He surreptitiously flexed his fingers to regain feeling, marveling at her strength.

"Luke told me that I am Force sensitive, but I've never experienced anything like that. Not even when Alderaan was destroyed." Her voice broke. "Either my senses are getting sharper, or that was very close." She met his eyes. "Luke," she whispered. And they were on their feet, running.


	4. How Can You Not Hate Me?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Although the augmented voice didn't exhibit emotion, Luke could easily feel his grief.

Luke stood and turned toward the door as it opened. He had become aware of Han and Leia's fear and concern once his father had calmed. He had considered going out to meet them, but decided against it. They hadn't yet seen or spoken to Anakin, and it would be good for them to see there was nothing to fear from him.

The door burst open, and Han stepped through blaster first. He was brought up short by Luke standing calmly yet firmly in the way. Realizing he was pointing his weapon directly at his friend, Han's hand wavered.

"Luke?" Leia craned her neck to see around Han. "Are you okay?" Her voice was full of concern.

"I'm fine." Luke nodded toward Han's pistol. "I don't really like that thing pointing at me though."

Han blinked. He looked down at his blaster as if wondering where it had come from. "Sorry." He lowered his hand until the barrel was aimed at the floor. Luke took note that he did not holster it—clearly Han was not convinced there was no danger.

"What happened?" Han was all business now, no longer hesitant. "Leia felt something that really hurt her."

"Leia?" Luke hadn't realized she would be sensitive enough to feel Anakin's pain. The blood she shared with Anakin must have accentuated her senses.

"I'm sorry," Anakin's mechanical voice startled them all, "for…everything." Although the augmented voice didn't exhibit emotion, Luke could easily feel his grief at the pain he had caused her. From the expression on her face, he guessed Leia could feel it too.

"That was  _you_  I felt," she whispered, pushing past Han to stand by the bedside.

Anakin turned his head toward her. "Can you ever forgive me?"

She winced at the raw pain emanating from him, but shook her head. "Maybe. Someday." She looked away. "I'm sorry." Pushing past Han, she fled the room.

With a helpless shrug, Han followed her.

~*~

Anakin watched as Leia Organa left. She was the second source of power he had often felt since waking. Untrained though she was, she was nearly as powerful as Luke, despite the fact that her light was dimmed right now by the hatred she harboured for Darth Vader.

How had he never seen it before? With a pained grimace, he admitted silently that it was a mercy he hadn't realized her abilities while she was his prisoner on the Death Star. Though he had often wondered how she had endured all they had done to her.

It was strange: although they had merely known each other in the Senate and then only in passing until he had arrested her, she seemed eerily familiar to him, almost as familiar as did Luke. Who was she? Had he remembered everything, or was there more?

He turned toward his son and attempted to put his confusion into words. "I feel like I know her. Or that I should."

Luke sighed. "Leia is my sister." He smiled. "We're twins."

Twins. How had he not known Padmé was carrying two? His eyes burned, unaccustomed to the tears that were forming. Not only had he killed so many innocents, but he had maimed his son and tortured his daughter. "How can you not hate me?"

"It is not in me to hate my father." Luke put his hand on Anakin's forearm, his love so radiant it was nearly blinding.

~*~

Days passed, and Anakin could barely sense Leia, and then only if he concentrated. It seemed she was staying as far away as possible. Although it hurt him, he couldn't blame her. He had brought nothing but pain into her life since her birth. Determined to make amends if possible, and knowing he couldn't begin the attempt from his sickbed, he pushed himself to recover quickly.

About a week after seeing Leia, Anakin finally rose. He sat on the edge of the mattress for a moment, gathering his strength, then pushed himself to his feet. He wasn't used to feeling so helpless. Luke hovered nearby, ready to help if necessary. The low ceiling almost touched the top of the helmet, and suddenly the room was too small. He turned toward the door, and Luke—anticipating his desire—opened it. Anakin slowly walked outside into the light. Standing beside his son, he felt a surge of hope. If Luke believed in him, how could anything be impossible?


	5. Imagine the Panic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Anakin Skywalker fell. The darkness consumed him. His masters thought him lost forever, but just as someone can turn from the light to the dark, so too can someone turn from the dark to the light."

"You must be joking." Leia stepped forward and stood toe to toe with her brother, her head tilted up to look him in the eye, incredulous. "Even if you're right about him, imagine the panic he would cause."

Many had quailed before her glare, but Luke stood his ground. "He can't hide forever, Leia. If we don't tell everyone he's here, they'll still find out eventually. Imagine the panic  _that_  would cause."

"Well, yes," she reluctantly admitted. "That would be worse, of course." Panic? More like utter chaos. She shivered at the thought.

Luke gently took hold of her upper arms. "Trust me, Leia. I'm sure I can do this without causing undue alarm."

"How?" Leia's stare hardened again. "Will you use the Force?" She had seen him do it once or twice: he told someone what to do or think, and they obeyed. She shivered at the thought of losing control of her will like that.

He dropped his hands and looked down at the soft grass beneath their feet. "Only if I must." He met her eyes again. "I would never try to take control of your mind, Leia."

"Blast it, Luke! Stop reading my thoughts!" She turned her back on him and strode away, needing some distance. As if distance would stop him from reading her.

"I'm sorry," he said softly. "I can't help it. I always hear you."

She sighed in defeat. How could she demand such a thing? It was like asking him not to breathe. She knew what it was like, after all. "I hear you, too," she said under her breath, knowing he would hear it, and also hear the apology that she couldn't put into words.

~*~

Endor's sun was rising over the trees as Luke stood before the assembled rebels in the meadow where, only a short time before, they had celebrated the end of the Empire. He could feel their curiosity and, in some cases, annoyance. They had been called here from important tasks without any explanation. He stepped up onto a makeshift dais and raised his hands; instantly, those nearest him quieted, and nudged their neighbours, sparking a wave of respectful silence that washed over all those gathered.

Letting his eyes wander over the faces turned towards him, Luke began. He had no plan of what to say; he spoke from the heart and let the Force guide him.

"My name is Luke Skywalker, son of Anakin Skywalker." A few heads nodded, and he could sense their confusion: why was he telling them this? "My father was a Jedi Knight in the Old Republic, at the time when the Emperor first took power." Some of his listeners leaned forward, interested; some sat back and folded their arms, bored.

"Some of you are Force sensitive, yet untrained. With training, you could learn to touch the Force, maybe become Jedi."

There was more interest now, as everyone in the room considered the possibility that he or she might have that elusive quality that allowed one to touch the Force. He gave them a moment, then continued, "However, there are two sides to the Force, and the dark side can be very seductive, even to one who has trained for his whole life. The Force whispers to you constantly, connecting you with everything around you, but the dark side promises unlimited power and pretends to be an answer to all of your problems."

He paused again. They were hanging on every word now, transfixed by the tale he spun. "My father is very strong in the Force. But he was not immune to the allure of the dark side." He closed his eyes and bowed his head, feeling the ghostly pain of Anakin's memories rush through him once again. For the span of several heartbeats, silence reigned; some of the rebels even held their breath.

When he continued, Luke's voice was little more than a whisper, for he was almost reluctant to speak at all. "Anakin Skywalker fell. The darkness consumed him. His masters thought him lost forever." Raising his head, Luke smiled, allowing his joy to shine forth so that even those with no sensitivity to the Force could see it. "The Jedi of the Old Republic believed there was no hope for him, but just as someone can turn from the light to the dark, so too can someone turn from the dark to the light."

Murmurings and mutterings sprang up all over the crowd. Luke raised his voice: "I believed my father dead, for I was told that Darth Vader murdered him. That was a perversion of the truth however, for Anakin Skywalker had become Darth Vader."

The rebels erupted; many of them leapt to their feet shouting questions and concerns, while some sat in stunned silence. While he couldn't make out the words through the din, Luke could easily pick up the fear behind them. He raised his hands, and slowly quiet fell once again.

As he lowered his hands and opened his mouth to speak, a voice called out, "If Darth Vader is your father, what's to keep you from falling to the dark side as well?"

Luke sighed softly, unsure how to answer. He had once declared, "I'll never turn to the dark side," but that would sound arrogant to these ears. He knew that he would never go down that path, but how could he prove that to them?

Another voice spoke up: "Is that why you gathered us here? To warn us you might become the next Darth Vader?"

"No." Luke glanced to his right where Leia and Han stood as if guarding the door of the barracks. "I called you here to tell you that Anakin Skywalker turned back to the light and I brought him here."

"Here?!" The one word exploded from several throats at once, followed by a confusion of protest. This time, they were all on their feet, and some reached for blasters, looking around as if Vader might pop up anywhere and attack them. Luke and Han exchanged a wry look, remembering Han's similar reaction.

Turning back to the assembly, Luke raised his hands again. This time, silence did not come so easily. It seemed they weren't ready to trust his word that Anakin was no longer Vader. He caught scraps of questions asking if he had already turned to the dark side, and if he had brought the Emperor here as well.

Then, one of the nearer men stepped toward Luke, his blaster half out of his holster. Luke felt the threat through the Force, and put his hand on his lightsaber, ready to defend himself. He didn't get the chance. The doors behind Leia and Han flew open, forcing them to leap aside, and Anakin strode through, his black cape swirling around him. His gauntleted hand was raised as he bore down on the hapless rebel who threatened his son.

For an instant time seemed to stretch and slow while everyone helplessly watched. Anakin's target froze, an expression of terror on his face. Han and Leia scrambled to their feet in a panic, but were too far away to do anything. Only Luke remained serene, for he could read his father's intentions; while everyone else assumed he was about to attack, and probably kill, Luke knew better.

A shimmering, translucent barrier came into being just in front of Luke, and Anakin stopped beside him. He placed his free hand on Luke's shoulder, his other hand still held before him, maintaining the Force barrier.

Leia strode past them, and stood toe to toe with the man who had threatened her brother. "Just what do you think you're doing?" she demanded. "We have enough enemies without fighting amongst ourselves. The Emperor may be dead, but the Empire is far from defeated." She gestured toward Luke and Anakin. "Do you see that? He defends, rather than attacking you—which he would have been justified in doing. That is the reaction of a Jedi, not a Sith."

She wasn't as sure of Anakin as she sounded, but she was making it very clear to all that she trusted Luke and he sent a wave of gratitude toward her. She was right. They had enough enemies without turning on each other.


	6. I Don't Have to Answer to You, Pretty Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Just tell me where Luke Skywalker is, and the rest of you can do whatever the frack you want."

Endor's sun was just rising over the trees while Luke and Anakin sat cross-legged on the grass facing each other, meditating. A warmth began to grow within Anakin's chest as Luke reached out through the Force to touch his damaged lungs. It grew and spread until the heat was almost uncomfortable, but Anakin didn't protest. He sat very still, concentrating on his breathing, praying that Luke would be successful. He was so tired of wearing the mask.

A piercing siren interrupted them, breaking their concentration. Anakin sighed in disappointment as the warmth faded. He and Luke sprinted towards the main buildings.

They emerged from the forest into panic and chaos: rebels were running in all directions, and at first it was impossible to see the reason for the uproar. Then Luke pointed to the right, and shouted, "There!" The flash of a red lightsaber blade made Anakin's blood run cold.

Luke took off running, and Anakin followed close behind. A dark Force user here? But who could it be? Then it hit him, and he stumbled, barely keeping his feet. He had forgotten the Emperor's Hand.

And yes, it was her. Red hair flaming in the early morning sun, red blade pointed at—his heart almost stopped—Leia! His daughter stood unflinching, looking down her nose at one of the most dangerous people in the galaxy: Mara Jade, the Hand of the Emperor. Han stood behind Leia, his hand hovering near his blaster.

"I will tell you nothing!" Leia's voice was imperious, and Anakin was powerfully reminded of Padmé.

His heart clenched and, without even thinking, he raised his hand and pushed with the Force. The red-haired assassin was caught off-guard, and she lurched back away from Leia, almost falling. Anyone else would have lost their footing completely, but the Emperor's Hand had been trained in more than the use of the Force; she was proficient in several styles of combat, and comfortable with the use of many different weapons. She was one of a very few people Darth Vader had respected.

Now she turned those intense green eyes on him, and they widened in shock. "What are you doing here?" she demanded.

Luke stepped forward. "Who are you? What do you want?"

She sneered at him. "I don't have to answer to you, pretty boy. Just tell me where Luke Skywalker is, and the rest of you can do whatever the frack you want."

"I'm Luke Skywalker."

She looked him up and down with interest. "Is that so? I thought you'd be taller."

Anakin unhooked his lightsaber from his belt but didn't activate it yet, hoping it wouldn't be necessary. "What do you want with Luke?"

She turned back toward him and frowned. "He killed the emperor. Why haven't you dispensed justice already?"

"He didn't kill the emperor. I did."

"I see. Well, that changes things." She raised her blade. "I would suggest that you submit to justice."

"What justice?" Leia demanded. "Palpatine deserved death many times over for his crimes."

"Who are you to decide that?" Mara demanded. "Besides, by that logic, Lord Vader also deserves death several times over."

"But Darth Vader is dead," Luke said, putting his hand on his father's shoulder. "The man before you is Anakin Skywalker." Luke was so earnest and sincere, as though he actually expected her to accept what he said.

Mara narrowed her eyes. "It makes no difference to me. Stand aside and I won't have to kill you too."

"I'm sorry." Luke activated his lightsaber, the green blade coming up into a defensive position. "I can't do that."

Anakin's stomach clenched. "No!" He stepped forward, his own red blade extending. "Let me handle this, Luke."

Luke smiled, and Mara raised a hand as if to shade her eyes from the blaze of light. Anakin almost did the same. Every time he thought he had gotten used to Luke's radiance, something like this happened, reminding him of how incredibly powerful his son really was.

"That isn't how it works, Father," Luke said. "We stand together."

Mara gaped at them, then grinned and shook her head. "Oh, this is rich. The Sith Lord is a daddy." She passed her lightsaber from her right hand to her left, and stretched out her right towards Luke. "Sorry, pretty boy. Nothing personal." Lightning burst from her fingertips, and Anakin's heart nearly stopped. Once again, he watched that deadly electricity reach out towards his son.

To Anakin's relief, Luke managed to block with his lightsaber, catching the energy on the emerald blade, which sparked madly as it absorbed the onslaught. Anakin stepped forward to intervene, but Luke put a hand out as if to stop him. "Father, no! You haven't completely recovered from last time."

Before he could think what to do, Anakin was surprised at the sound of a blaster shot. Mara's eyes went wide, and she crumpled to the ground, her lightsaber falling beside her. He reached out with the Force and caught it before the blade could touch anything. Bringing it back to his hand, he deactivated it.

Luke knelt at Mara's side and checked for a pulse. "She's alive." He stood and turned to where Han was putting away his blaster.

"Of course she is," Han said with a grin. "I'm an excellent shot."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those unfamiliar with the Star Wars extended universe novels: I didn't invent Mara Jade. Look her up on Wookiepedia for more info.


	7. Unarmed and Unafraid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "It had all been a plot: father and son had conspired to take over—or take down—the Empire. How had the great Sith Master not seen this coming? He must have known that Skywalker was Vader's son. How could he have misjudged things so completely?"

She woke immediately, instantly alert. Without opening her eyes, she took stock of her situation. She seemed uninjured, which was strange as she distinctly remembered the blaster shot that had slipped through her defenses and taken her down. Anger welled up at that, and she allowed it for anger gave her strength. She would settle things with that cocky pilot after she dealt with Lord Vader.

Looking deeper, she discovered the unmistakable signature of a Force healing. So that's why there was no pain. But who would heal her? Despite having only limited contact with Lord Vader in the past, she was familiar enough with his Force signature to be certain that it hadn't been him. That meant Luke Skywalker had done it. Now, there was an enigma.

When reports of the Force-sensitive Rebel had first begun to arrive on Coruscant, Mara had been vaguely interested, but too busy with her duties to really pay attention. However, when the emperor had decided to try to turn the boy, she had taken notice. Rumour was that there could be only two Sith at a time—a Master and an Apprentice—so it followed that Vader's days were numbered. But it had all been a plot: father and son had conspired to take over—or take down—the Empire. How had the great Sith Master not seen this coming? He must have known that Skywalker was Vader's son. How could he have misjudged things so completely? She shook her head violently. It didn't matter. It was not her place to question her Master. She only did his bidding, and—now he was gone—she could but avenge him.

She could hear distant sounds of activity and, nearer, the unmistakable wheezing of Lord Vader's respirator. She could feel his watchfulness through the Force, and she smiled. It seemed he was her guard. Well, that made things simpler. She wouldn't have to go looking for him. She opened her eyes, and sat up on the edge of the bed. The room was small and bare, which was to be expected: it was a cell after all.

Skywalker's remarkably potent Force presence was some distance away at the moment, which was just as well. Although she wouldn't be so easily distracted a second time, facing Vader alone was preferable. Besides, she had no quarrel with Skywalker unless he interfered again.

There was no way to get out of the cell without Lord Vader's knowledge, and besides, she didn't want to sneak past him; she wanted to confront and kill him. Accordingly, she simply used the Force to fling the door open, ripping it off of its hinges, and sending it skidding down the hall. As expected, Vader's black-cloaked form instantly blocked the now open doorway.

"You are not leaving," he intoned.

"So stop me." She stepped forward, unarmed and unafraid. She needed no weapons to deal with one Sith, even if he drew the lightsaber that hung at his belt.

But he didn't. He faced her empty-handed. And he didn't immediately attempt his signature choke, either. Puzzled, she paused, trying to read his emotions through the Force. He was as unafraid of her as she was of him—no, there was fear there, but not for his own well-being. He feared for someone else. Skywalker, of course. She allowed herself a small smile. She had found his weakness.

However, that didn't explain why he had yet to attack. From what she knew of Lord Vader, his usual method was to kill first and ask questions later. She respected that, having done it herself on many occasions. Now, though, it seemed he wanted her to make the first move, and that made her very suspicious.

Unfortunately, she didn't have time to ponder long, for she sensed Skywalker's unmistakable presence moving closer quickly. Clearly, he had sensed either the energy that had blasted the door or the tension between her and Vader, or possibly both. No, probably both. The boy was exceptionally strong in the Force. If he could be convinced to work with her rather than against—but he was clearly very protective of his father, and she couldn't let Vader get away with murdering her Master. Unfortunately, she would likely have to kill Skywalker as well.

Maybe that was Vader's plan: to delay her until his son arrived. There was no reason to face the two of them together, though. Her skills were formidable, but so were theirs. She had found that the easiest route was usually the best one. It was time to avenge her Master's death.


	8. No Stranger to Fear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There wasn't much Darth Vader feared. He had lost everything that mattered to him when he fell to the dark side, and almost everyone in the galaxy was afraid of him.

Luke sped through the hallways, careening off walls around each corner. He cursed himself for a fool that he had left his father alone to guard the Imperial assassin, especially after Anakin had announced that he—not Luke—had killed the Emperor.

Han had been so sure that she would be unconscious for hours, and Luke had bowed to his friend's superior knowledge when it came to getting shot with a blaster. Leia was meeting with a diplomatic delegation, and she had asked him to stand with her as moral support and a reminder that the Jedi had returned and now stood with the New Republic. He wasn't expected to say anything: only to look important and dignified. Well, that was shot all to pieces. As soon as he felt Mara Jade blast her cell door off its hinges, he took off running and didn't look back. Leia would have some choice words for him later regarding the impression he had made, but right now, he didn't care. He had to save his father. Again.

Mara Jade: the Emperor's Hand, Anakin had told him she was called. Trained in the Force, but not truly a Sith, she was an assassin, a spy, or whatever else the Emperor required her to be. Luke had sensed a hint of fear in his father as he spoke of her—not for himself, but for Luke, and for Leia. Yoda had said fear was dangerous, as it could lead to darker emotions, but was all fear the same? Jedi were supposed to protect others, and it was exceedingly difficult not to be afraid those you were protecting might be hurt.

Luke feared that Anakin wasn't recovered enough yet to face a formidable opponent like Mara Jade. Also, though he hated to admit it, he feared that all those years spent using anger and hatred to fuel his mastery of the Force would make it all too easy to slip back into that habit. He couldn't let that happen. He had only just gotten his father back, and he refused to lose him again.

His lungs burning, Luke drew on the Force to give strength to his legs and wings to his heels. He had only to get there, and he knew he could do something to stop Mara without anyone being hurt. Maybe he could even convince her of the error of her ways, save her as he had saved Anakin. Not right away, of course, but showing her mercy was the first step.

He had not yet felt his father attack; Anakin felt fear for his children, but he was controlling it well. Luke grinned as a swell of pride for his father surged through him. Minutes later, he rounded the last corner, skidding to a stop beside his father. The two of them faced Mara—who didn't look at all worried to be facing two Jedi while unarmed.

However, her outward appearance didn't reflect her true emotions. Luke felt her confidence waver when he appeared. For some reason he didn't understand, she feared him.

~*~

Anakin was no stranger to fear. Throughout his life, it had been a constant companion, even a friend and ally. As Darth Vader, he encouraged others to fear him, doling out harsh punishments for failure, and exuding an appearance of complete confidence and competence. However, though he never showed himself to be afraid, he also didn't try to eradicate his own fear, for fear leads to anger and anger leads to hate—these are the emotions that fuel the dark side of the Force, though hate is the most powerful and fear the weakest.

There wasn't much Darth Vader feared. He had lost everything that mattered to him when he fell to the dark side, and almost everyone in the galaxy was afraid of him. The one exception was, of course, his Master: Darth Sidious aka Emperor Palpatine. Of everyone and everything in the known universe, only Sidious was greater than Vader. And the old man was going insane. There is little more terrifying than a lunatic with nearly infinite power.

There had been a time when Anakin had feared for the sake of others: for Padmé and—to a lesser extent—for Obi-Wan. It had been a very long time since he had cared about someone, and he had almost forgotten what it was like to fear for their safety. But when Luke appeared at his side, facing the Emperor's Hand, fear for his son rose up and threatened to choke him.

It had been so long since he had wielded the Force in battle without drawing on the dark side. Could he even do it anymore? While part of him argued that he should do whatever was necessary to protect Luke, he knew without doubt that touching that darkness again would hurt Luke more than Mara ever could.

He pushed away fear and darkness, and embraced peace and light.


	9. You Are a Fool, Farmboy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Are you asking me to become a Jedi, farmboy?”

Mara could see her reflection in Lord Vader’s expressionless black helmet. Her face was pale. Then again, her face was always pale. She would like to believe she wasn’t afraid, but the tremor in her hands and the emptiness in the pit of her stomach said otherwise.

Mara drew her fear close, wrapping it around her, reaching out for the anger that always followed. It didn’t come. No. That couldn’t be right. The anger always came when she called. The dark side had never failed her before. This was the man who had killed her master—killed his own master. This man, Lord Vader, had betrayed the Emperor for a Jedi! Anger stirred deep inside, but it was weak, choked by the fear that would not fade. For the first time in years, Mara found herself paralyzed by fear.

Luke Skywalker looked like nothing more than a harmless young man when viewed with the unassisted eye. However, when viewed through the Force, he was more like a barely contained solar storm, fire and light blazing with incredible power. While she may be able to hold her own against Vader, Mara was no match for Luke.

And that was finally—finally!—the catalyst that loosed her anger. Yes, she was no match for him, but what did that matter? She had never backed down from a fight in her life, and she wasn’t going to start now, no matter how powerful this overgrown farmboy from a backwater planet happened to be.

Lifting her hands palm out, she pushed at them both with the Force, throwing all the anger and hatred she could muster into it. A burning rush of power ripped through her and smashed into her opponents, flinging them into the far wall. She reached out through the Force toward Vader’s breathing apparatus. Quickly, before Skywalker recovers! All she had to do was stop the respirator and the airflow would end. He would end. Her master would be avenged. She clenched her jaw to stop the grin that wanted to spread across her face. There! The constant repetitive noise from Vader’s respirator came to a stop, and she released the threads of power and stepped back.

Now she allowed herself to smile. Skywalker would kill her when he recovered, of course, but that didn't matter anymore. Her mission was complete.

~*~

Luke felt Anakin’s breathing stop and his own breath caught. His head had hit the wall hard and he felt adrift in pain, but he gathered the Force around himself and reached out towards his father, ignoring the throbbing in his skull. He could not—would not—lose him!

With his eyes closed, Luke could see Mara’s dark signature on the mechanism that allowed Anakin to breathe. Protected behind the armour of his helmet, the respirator’s functions were delicate. His Force touch a bare whisper, Luke touched the workings, and gently pushed them back to where they belonged. With a gasp, Anakin began to breathe again.

At the return of the respirator’s unmistakable sound, the Force trembled with Mara’s anger. Luke pushed himself up against the wall until he stood to face her, ignoring the pain in his head, and he unclipped his lightsaber from its place on his belt. He didn’t activate the blade, but he saw Mara’s eyes flicker towards it, and her fear spiked. Part of him was pleased—she should be afraid! She had nearly killed his father. She deserved to pay for that.

No. Revenge was not the way of the Jedi. Luke closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, allowing peace to fill his mind. For a moment, it was as if he were floating among the stars.

Mara was not evil. She was merely deluded by the dark side, just as Anakin had been. He returned his lightsaber to its place on his belt, and met her eyes. “You will never succeed,” he promised her. “No matter what you do, I will always stop you. I will not lose my father again.”

“You don’t understand, Jedi,” she spat, her fists clenched at her sides, her body poised to fight or flee. “He killed my master. I must avenge him. I don’t care if you kill me.”

Did she have nothing to live for save revenge? “You were only a child when Sidious found you.” It wasn’t really a question.

She frowned. “Yes. What does that matter?”

“I’m sorry.” He reached out toward her through the Force, willing her to feel the compassion he had for her. “It’s not your fault. No one ever taught you how to do or be anything else. If you are willing, you can stay here, and I could teach you of the true Force.”

She raised a disdainful eyebrow. “Are you asking me to become a Jedi, farmboy?”

He smiled. Her fear was fading, replaced with curiosity. She was still hostile, but he was certain he could reach her, given time. “Yes, I suppose I am.”

She stared at him incredulously. “You are a fool.”

“Perhaps. My friend Han certainly thinks so at times.”

“Han. He’s the one who shot me, isn’t he? I have a score to settle with him as well.” Her angry words fell flat, with no real passion behind them.

He laughed. “I have a few scores to settle with him myself. What do you say we pool our resources, and teach him a lesson?”

She crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes. “I usually kill those who cross me.”

He glanced at his father, who was only now getting to his feet. “I can show you better ways.” He offered Anakin an arm for balance. His father said nothing as he stood; he merely watched them, but his emotions through the Force were conflicted. He didn’t trust Mara, but he was proud of Luke for trying to help her anyway.

Mara uncrossed her arms and studied Luke through narrowed eyes. “You really mean it, don’t you?” She shook her head. “I tried to kill you and your father, and you would still take me in and teach me?”

“A Jedi doesn’t hold grudges or harbour hatred. I believe that everyone deserves a second chance.” He put his hand on Anakin’s shoulder. “No matter what you’ve done.”

She stood in silence for a long moment, staring at Luke. Her emotions were conflicted, but shining through the fear and anger was something that was probably alien to her: hope. Perhaps she could find a new purpose. He held out his free hand toward her. “What do you say?”

 


	10. Why Isn't She in Lockup?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “A Jedi?! Luke, she tried to kill us! She’s an Imperial spy!”

Chapter 10: Why isn’t she in lockup?

A Jedi. Could she really be a Jedi? Mara shook her head, and laughed at the thought. “You really are a fool, aren't you?”

Skywalker smiled, but didn't say anything. He was still holding out his hand as if he expected her to take it. She shook her head again. Could she? No. She could never be a Jedi. But Skywalker was still smiling at her, and she could feel his conviction: he really believed what he was saying.

“How?” she finally whispered. Her hands were shaking, and she folded her arms again to hide it. Futile, of course, for Skywalker could read her like a datapad.

His smile widened, became so brilliant she was nearly blinded. “I can teach you. It won't be easy, but nothing worthwhile ever is. Will you stay?”

No. She had to get away, to put as many miles as possible between herself and Skywalker's dangerously tempting offer. But where would she go? What was there left for her in a galaxy without her Master? Even if she could manage to kill Vader, what would she do then? There was no longer any meaning or purpose to her life. Skywalker's offer was likely the best opportunity that was going to come her way. And at the least, it would allow her to get close to Vader. Perhaps an opportunity would yet arise.

Could Skywalker read that thought? She quickly pushed it away. There was no way he trusted her, but there was no sense in giving him more reasons to withdraw his offer. Taking a deep breath, she lifted her chin and met his eyes. “Yes. I accept your offer.”

~*~

“He has no idea how difficult he’s making it for me!” Leia flung her datapad onto her desk and rubbed the bridge of her nose. Han craned his neck to see the screen—surprisingly, it was still in one piece. Leia sighed gustily and leaned back in her chair. “I don’t expect him to report to me or follow my orders, but he could at least follow through on his promises.”

She had been in a fury ever since Luke had run out on her meeting earlier, leaving chaos in his wake. The visiting diplomats had assumed that anything that caused a Jedi to leave in such a hurry was probably something they should be worried about. It had taken hours to calm them.

Luke had not re-appeared yet, and Han was left to try to appease Leia. “He must have had a good reason to run off like that,” he said.

Leia wasn’t buying it. She sat up straight and glared at him. “I’m sure he did. That’s not the point.”

Han raised an eyebrow. As he opened his mouth to respond, a knock sounded at the door. Leia was on her feet instantly. She strode across the small office, and flung the door open. “You better have come to explain yourself,” she told Luke, then turned on her heel and left him looking rather bemused.

Han grinned, wondering how he had ever thought those two were anything other than siblings. Then he spotted the redhead who followed Luke into the room, and he was on his feet, his blaster in his hand.

Green eyes flickered over him, then dismissed him. She turned her back. Han smirked. She may act like he was of little importance, but those vaunted Force powers hadn’t helped her last time. He lowered his blaster, but didn’t reholster it. If there was trouble that Luke couldn’t handle, he would be ready.

Leia stood behind her desk, her arms crossed. “Why isn’t she in lockup?”

Luke smiled, and ignored the question. “Leia, this is Mara Jade. She will be staying here to train as a Jedi.”

Leia’s eyes widened, and she leaned forward on her palms. “A Jedi?! Luke, she tried to kill us! She’s an Imperial spy!” She shook her head. “It was one thing to bring Vader here, but…Luke…”

Han stepped forward, his blaster held loosely down alongside his thigh. “How do you know they’re not working together?” he asked bluntly.

Luke and Mara turned together toward him. He forced himself not to flinch at the intense scrutiny and naked power in their eyes.

Mara let out a short bark of laughter. “Me work with Lord Vader? He killed my master, in case you’ve forgotten.”

Han raised an eyebrow.

“If you are serious about learning from me, I will expect you to find a way to work with Anakin Skywalker,” Luke said quietly. “Jedi don’t hold grudges.”

Mara stared at him for a moment, her eyes narrowed. Then she nodded stiffly.

“Luke, if you really think this is the right thing to do, then I trust you,” Leia said. Han knew Leia well enough to see her hesitation. She wasn’t certain about this—not by a long shot.

Han leaned on Leia’s desk and crossed his ankles, casually cradling his blaster in his lap. He nodded at Mara. “I don’t trust her.” He met Luke’s eyes. “And I don’t trust him.”

Luke nodded, understanding. While it was sometimes hard for Han to see past the kid he remembered from Tattooine to the Jedi Knight he had become, right now there was no mistaking the radiant power and authority Luke wore as if it had always been part of him. Han wondered how Leia and Mara could even stand to be near him, let alone look directly at him when even a Force-blind smuggler could feel it.

Leia straightened up, in full Senator mode. “Do you accept responsibility for both of them,Master Skywalker?”

Luke nodded formally. “I do.”

Mara snorted under her breath. Han glanced at her, but she was staring straight ahead, ignoring everyone. He grinned. It seemed he wasn’t the only one who found the whole “official” officiousness ridiculous.

Leia met Luke’s eyes, and Han could swear they were communicating without words. Sometimes he couldn’t help but be jealous no matter that Luke was her brother. Of course, Han wouldn’t actually want to have anyone in his head, not even Leia. Though sometimes he wondered just how much they could read him, he preferred not to think about it.

“Thank you, Master Skywalker,” Leia was saying, her voice cool and professional. “Anakin Skywalker and Mara Jade are under your protection and you will be responsible for their actions while they reside on this base.” She gave Mara a measuring look, then turned back to Luke. He bowed, she nodded, then he turned and left the room, with Mara close behind him.

 


	11. A Shadow of Myself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I would have done that to you,” he rasped, his voice choked with the tears he couldn’t shed. “I would have turned you into a monster, a shadow of myself.”

“She will try again.” Anakin’s voice rumbled through the speechbox in his breathing mask. “All she knows is hatred and revenge.”

Luke sighed, sitting on the ground next to his father to watch the sun set over the trees. “I know, but I have to try to show her love and forgiveness.” He turned toward his father. “I saved you.”

“Yes. But I knew love once, and I had not forgotten. She was very young when Lord Sidious found her. I don’t believe she has ever known anything else.”

Luke pulled a few blades of grass from near his leg. Rubbing them between his fingers, he gazed into the distance. “I wonder what my life would have been like if he had found me.” His voice was so soft, Anakin could barely hear him. “Wouldn’t I be just like her?”

If not for his respirator, Anakin’s breath would surely have caught. His son—this blazing, glorious light—darkened? Made into a tool for Palpatine’s use? It was unthinkable. It was monstrous. Yet, he had tried to do just that on the Death Star, and when Luke had refused… “I would have done that to you,” he rasped, his voice choked with the tears he couldn’t shed. “I would have turned you into a monster, a shadow of myself.”

Luke’s hand on his shoulder lent him strength. “No, Father. When it really mattered, you chose the light.”

“But what if we had found you when you were just a child?” Anakin turned to face his son, wishing he could look unaided into his eyes. “Owen and Beru raised you well, and they helped you become the man you are. But if we had taken you away from them before you knew the difference between right and wrong, before you could make your own choices, what then?”

Luke’s eyes reflected Anakin’s pain. “I don’t know.”

Anakin bowed his head, thankful that he hadn’t had an influence in his son’s early years. And yet… Luke hadn’t inherited Anakin’s temper, his tendency to overreact. “I don’t see my weaknesses in you, Luke. You are more like your mother in the ways that matter. I was close to your age when I surrendered to the dark side.” His voice grew quiet. “I thought it was the only choice I had. I allowed myself to be defeated.” He raised his gaze to Luke’s face again. “Padmé wasn’t one to allow herself to be defeated, and neither are you.”

Luke leaned over and wrapped his arms around his father. “You are not defeated.”

For a moment, Anakin didn’t move. No one had embraced him since his mother and Padmé, and his mechanical arms didn’t know how to respond. But then he reached out and tentatively put his arms around Luke’s shoulders, hugging his son.

~*~

Mara’s fists clenched on her knees where she sat crosslegged on the grass facing Luke, her eyes closed. He could feel her frustration growing as her hands tightened. “Mara,” he said softly. “Don’t try so hard. Just let it flow.”

Her eyes flew open. She took a sharp breath as if about to say something, opened her mouth, then snapped it shut, closed her eyes again, and took a slower breath. “I don’t understand. How do I do that?”

Luke opened his mouth to respond, then paused. How to explain? Touching the Force came so easily, so naturally, to him. It was like a part of him, an extension of his body and mind. But there had been a time when he was new to this, when Obi Wan first taught him how to let go of his conscious self and to act on instinct, when Yoda taught him that size meant nothing to the Force.

He reached out and took her hands in his, opening her fists and turning her palms up. She looked up at him, her eyes wide. “What—” she began.

“Trust me,” he said. “The Force both controls you and obeys you. It is a part of you.” He squeezed her hands gently. “In order to truly touch it, though, you must let go of your conscious self and act on instinct.”

She took another deep breath, this one a little shakier. “I’m not sure I can do that.”

For all her bravado, she had trouble believing in herself. “I think you can,” he said. “Close your eyes; they can deceive you. Reach out with your feelings.”

“Okay, farmboy.” One side of her mouth tilted up, and she closed her eyes. “I’ll do it your way.”

Her hands in his felt right, and she didn’t seem to mind, so he continued to cradle them. The contact connected them in way he hadn’t expected. Though he could always sense her through the Force, this was almost like the connection he shared with Leia, yet completely different at the same time. There was an undercurrent of something he couldn’t define, that was somehow both peaceful and intense. Following his own advice, he stopped trying to figure it out, and just let it flow over him.

And then it was all light, pure and clear.

“Oh!” Mara’s voice was faint, and she yanked her hands back.

Luke opened his eyes, a little overwhelmed, to meet hers. She stared at him, stunned. He smiled and let his hands fall onto his knees. “You did it.” He allowed his joy to shine through the connection that was still there, though it had faded slightly when she pulled back.

The darkness was still within her, but the light was now stronger. With time, he would find a way to banish the darkness altogether.

 


	12. Something Powerful and Deeply Intimate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Through her years as Emperor’s Hand, Palpatine had maintained a constant connection with her which allowed him to contact her anywhere. This was like that, yet not. Skywalker’s presence was as different from the Emperor’s as day was from night.

Mara entered the small quarters she had been assigned, not quite slamming the door behind her. She was still shaken by her earlier session with Skywalker. The connection that had flared up between them when she had finally touched the “light side” of the Force had shocked her more than anything ever had before, leaving her breathless. Worse, she had allowed him to see her confusion, her weakness.

Even now, she could still feel him in her head as if he had taken up residence there with no plans to leave. In a strange way, it filled the empty place where Palpatine used to reside.

Through her years as Emperor’s Hand, Palpatine had maintained a constant connection with her which allowed him to contact her anywhere. This was like that, yet not. Skywalker’s presence was as different from the Emperor’s as day was from night.

Skywalker was a brilliant star, illuminating the darkness inside her. Did she want that, though? Darkness had always been her friend, her strength, protecting and hiding her. Could she really give that up?

She flung herself on her cot, squeezing her head between her hands. Why did it feel so right? It had to be because she was used to Palpatine, and simply felt lost with no connection. That had to be it.

~*~

Mara faced Luke across the training room; he held a long metal tube in his hand. She grinned at him, trying to appear nonchalant, hefting a matching tube. He had made the training weapons to match the size and weight of lightsabers as closely as possible without the danger of the real blades.

“Not bad, farmboy.” She held hers up in front of her, scanning the length of it. “The balance isn’t quite the same, but it’s pretty close.”

He nodded. “As close as I could get without using actual lightsabers.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Worried you might get hurt, Skywalker?”

He walked toward her, his long limbs and easy grace reminding her of a jungle cat. “No sense in risking injury just for a practice session.”

She nodded, her mouth suddenly dry, though she wasn’t sure why. She dropped into a fighting stance. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

He said nothing in reply; holding the thin tube in both hands vertically before his face, he closed his eyes. Was he meditating? Probably. He did a lot of meditating. She narrowed her eyes. She would give a lot to break that placid serenity of his. His father was Darth Vader—there had to be a core of fire lying hidden beneath the ice.

Some would think this a good time to attack, when he wasn’t paying attention. She knew better; he would see any move she planned as soon as the thought formed in her mind. So she didn’t allow any intentions to form, and she didn’t touch the Force, for he would sense that too. She simply allowed her body to do what it knew so well, and flung herself at him.

Their weapons met with a clang that reverberated around the empty space. Knocked off balance, he stepped back and caught himself, his eyes flying wide. Determined to press the advantage, she turned, putting her shoulder into his chest, sliding her arm under his elbow; then she pivoted, flipping him over her back.

He landed on his back, but instantly rolled away from her and back to his feet. Turning back to face her, he grinned. “Nice.”

She grinned back, triumphant. Without the element of surprise, that move wouldn’t work again, but she had cracked his calm exterior—for only a second or two, but small victories were still victories.

They circled each other, watchful. He had quickly recovered his poise, and she pondered how to break through that shell again. An idea came to her and, as soon as it occurred to her—hopefully before he could read her intentions—she acted. Raising a hand, she pushed at him with the Force, and he lost his balance—only very briefly, but that was all she needed.

As he stumbled, she pushed herself forward with the Force. Their training weapons clashed together and she pushed again with the Force, knocking him further off balance. As he caught himself, she hooked a leg around behind his knee and yanked. To her dismay, he hooked his other leg around hers as he fell, and they landed together in a hopeless tangle.

Gasping for breath, she raised her head and met his eyes. The intense blue was deeper than it had been, the link between them thrumming with something she had never felt before, something powerful and deeply intimate. Sudden fear gripped her, and she pushed hard, flinging herself away from him.

~*~

Luke slowly sat up, watching Mara disappear through the door. That had been… interesting. To say the least.

He laid his metal tube on the floor beside him—his hand was trembling. He lifted it up before his face and stared at it. It wasn’t fear, though that was part of it. It was simply Mara’s nearness that had made him all aquiver.

He took a deep breath. He wasn’t completely naïve, despite what Han might think, but he had never felt this way before. The only girl he had ever thought he might be interested in was Leia, before he found out that she was his sister.

This was definitely going to complicate things, especially since Mara didn’t want anything to do with it. That spike of fear just before she fled made that clear. He sighed. Besides, she was his student—and she had yet to prove her trustworthiness. Nothing could come of this attraction.

 

 


End file.
